Wednesday, December 04, 2013

Charming Charlie

I have a special knack for meeting gentlemen (and asshats) in random places. As a result, I have never met anyone on Match.com. Nor have I ever bothered paying for eHarmony.com (In fact, I've never been a member for longer than the five free days.)*

Anyway, like most of my (chick) friends over 30, I found myself running into these random men less and less often. Unlike my friends, I didn't blame it on my age. I blamed it on my newly claimed relationship status. I'm still cute, so clearly the Youngblood sent out a bat signal...cockblocking me everywhere for a 90 mile radius. Natch. Admittedly, his signal was totally lost on bums and skeezy guys. But those are the sorts of guys that will hit on anything in a skirt.

This morning was like any other. I woke up, got my cardio on at the gym, and then came back and took a quick cat nap. That cat nap was TOTALLY worth running late to work. Who knows, maybe it was karma that I took that nap, which led me to get on a later train. Okay, let's not be all dramatic about it. I was running late, I got on a train, I sat next to a nondescript guy.

A few stops in, this nondescript guy drops the illest line on me ever in life. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him shifting and looking at me. And I am assuming he's the only person on the planet to get off at a stop prior to downtown. But no, he says to me...wait for it... "I'm sorry, but I have to ask. What perfume are you wearing? It's amazing and it's just so subtle. It's great." I don't have the heart to tell him that he isn't smelling my perfume that's buried under a sweater, coat, and scarf. Rather, the "subtle" sent he's smelling is Jergens Original Scent. Who doesn't love Cherry Almond? Instead, I tell him the name of the perfume that I did spray on before I got dressed.**

This, my dear readers, was his in. He used this to start an entire conversation. Over the course of the next three stops, I found myself staring into his baby blues, and watching him lick his lips, as he waxed poetic about how good it smells inside of Bath and Body Works. And that he's a philosophy major at a local university. And he wants to go to law school. Because he wants to use a law degree to be able to make a peaceful difference in a lot of causes he cares about. (Ugh. Pre-law students. Gag me with a spoon). Of course, I discouraged him from going to law school. And then I told him that if he truly thought he wanted to go, he should meet with lawyers and learn about their experience. To which he asked for my card. STOP. This is the part where we note that I am not attracted to this guy, at all. He's too young, too short, and doesn't appear to get enough sun. Fortunately, I don't have any cards on me. And I got to say the greatest line ever "google me, and you'll be able to find me."

So, I get off the train, and walk with a little bit of pep in my step. This small act reminded me that I still got it. But, more importantly, it showed me that there are men out there who still have the smooooveness that was so epically personified by Billy Dee Williams. This guy, even though he wasn't my type, completely succeeded in getting my attention, engaged me in actual conversation, and wasn't totally skeezy about it. This philosophy major may need to re-think law school, and open up a charm school.



*And what is up with the "flex matches"?!? Look here, Neil Clark Warren, if I wanted to be forced to settle then why do I need to pay you to set me up with men that I wouldn't normally be attracted to? All I need to do to find those guys is go outside and throw a rock. Your whole point is to find my perfect match, isn't it? Ok then.

**Bath and Body Works Forever Midnight, for those keeping track.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Pre-Season

Well, it's pre-season. That special time of year when teams test out their first-round draft picks, players feel out the extent of their injuries, and teams everywhere convince themselves that *this* is the year. It's also the time when the anticipation of football season begins to build. Pre-season is to football what August 1st is to the first day of school. I find myself mourning the end of summer but eagerly awaiting the first play of the first game.

Just like going to school, each football season I learn something new about the game. This year, my goal is to once and for all understand a read-option play. I've got the gist -- and I know that the Packers defense have yet to really be able to stop it -- but I want to be able to explain it to other people.

So, how did I get to where I am? Well, first, let me tell you how it didn't happen. Daddy wasn't a coach -- this was not a real life Remember the Titans, ok? Also, I am not a reporter for ESPN. (These are real questions I've been asked). Finally, I am not, nor have I ever been, a jersey chaser.* When I decided to learn the game, the way I went about it was to watch the game. Every Sunday after church, I'd turn on the game. I quickly figured out that Madden rarely actually talked about the game. To be fair, it is difficult to discuss the game when your lips have been sewn to Brett Favre's ass. When he could tear himself away from his bro-crush on Favre, he'd generally regale Al Michaels with tales of his tour bus and the year's turducken.** All of this was incredibly interesting (and by that I mean, irrelevant and useless), so I needed to find a different way. Lightbulb moment, I figured it out -- I would turn on the TV with the sound off and turn to the Packers Radio Network and listen to Jim Irwin and Max McGee (and later, Wayne Larrivee and Larry McCarren) explain the action in painstaking detail. Those details, helped me figure out what was really happening in the game. And you know what? The more I understood it, the more awesome it got.

Presumably, if you're reading this blog, you already have a basic understanding of the game. You know the difference between offense and defense, and you get the scoring. So I won't bore you with the easy stuff. Instead, when I'm not complaining or celebrating about particular games or plays, I'll spend a little time explaining more complicated things. (Like seriously, what IS a screen pass?!!? And why do I care what a YAC stat is?).

Any special requests? Drop a shout out in the comments.

It's almost time!!


*Jersey chasers: ho's that chase professional ball players so that they can trick him into marriage and never have to work again; at least until they become eligible to be a character on Has-Been TV. See: Basketball Wives, or Love and Basketball.

**The man is a legend but thank goodness he retired. Am I right?

Monday, August 12, 2013

Back That Pass Up -- an Introduction

Last week, I was lucky enough to be chosen to participate in a study, learning about how women interact with football. This led to a desire to create a blog for women...because that's the natural progression of things. Uh huh. Right.

So first, a little about me. I've been watching football since high school. It all started with the captain calling out:

First and ten!
Do it again!
Go Raiders Go!
*herky*

And me noticing that it was 3rd and 7 (for the other team). I was fairly certain that 1st and 10 was different than 3rd and 7...but I wasn't entirely certain how. I was absolutely certain that we shouldn't be cheering for the other team to get 1st and 10. Because I assumed that it didn't mean be the first to lose 10 points. But what did it mean? Well, I was a pretty clever gal in high school, and I decided I could figure it out. Because how hard could it be? Seriously. No one's ever accused the jocks of being rocket scientists, right?

Fast forward a few (*ahem*, yes, a few) years later, and here I am. On any given Sunday during football season, you'll catch me on the couch or at a bar watching the game and checking my fantasy football stats. I'm screaming at the wide receiver for dropped passes, and wondering out loud if the defensive coordinator is ever going to successfully call a 3rd down conversion. And it's a pretty great way to spend my nipples-freezing-off winters in the cold Midwest. I've also discovered that there are a ton of women who, like me, can succinctly tell you the difference between a quarterback and a corner back. And we don't watch just to function as our man's arm candy.* What I've noticed, however, is that we don't get to hang with the fellas...the "true sports fans" (eyeroll). No, we're mostly pushed to the corner. Like the kids to the card table on Thanksgiving. That is, unless the girl is a total tomboy, dressed in Tims and flannel. Then she's, you know, "one of the guys". Pfft.

Well, eff that noise. A girl can be a girl and still watch the game. I can talk about which receivers have the best YAC stats while I'm rocking my leopard print stilettos and swinging my Kate Spade bag. And I am here to speak for all of us. Ladies? It's time to stand up. To boldly discuss defensive strategy, the best response to a read-option play, QBs who scramble out of the pocket, shoes, mixing prints, and chocolate martinis in the same breath. And for f**k's sake...we don't give a shitake mushroom what the hell Jay Cutler and Kristin Cavallari had for dinner last night. We DO care that he threw an interception on the first play of the pre-season game last night...and yo, is Tim Tebow really going to be running routes now? REALLY?!

My name is pheebee...let's get to the grid iron.





*To the contrary, we make fun of those cheerleaders while we're gathered around our table watching the game. Side note? Some of my best memories of my first few years in the city were the Sundays that my girls and I would get together at the bar to watch games and drink. We started staying in on Saturday nights so we could be up in time to get a table for the All-U-Can-Drink Mimosas specials. Yes, mimosas. Because we like football...but we're still (frugal) gals.